Detention
by patricia51
Summary: When Rory and Paris are mistakenly thought to have been fighting they end up in the Headmaster's office. Femslash, Paris/Rory. Third story in this series. Takes place after my story "There's got to be a Morning After".


Detention by patricia51

(Warning. More femslash. Paris/Rory. The characters are not mine. They are the creation of Amy Sherman-Palladino and belong to the WB and the CW. The story takes place after "There's got to be a Morning After" but before "Visitors".)

(Paris and Rory can't keep their hands off each other. When this is misinterpreted as being rivals again they get sent to the Headmaster's Office)

"Paris Gellar, Rory Gilmore, I can scarcely believe it. Of all people I would expect to be standing here in front of me for misbehaving you two are the very last ones. And this close to graduation!" The Chilton Headmaster shook his head sadly and lifted the report from his desk.

"Mr. Medina says the pair of you acted like, well he doesn't use the word but 'hooligans' is what comes to MY mind. I have no idea what set you both off but acting like you did." The man slid his glasses down his nose and perused the paper again.

"Just a little poking to begin with and he told you to stop. You did until you thought his back was turned and then started again. And apparently there was a bit of shoving and pushing on each other. Then at break the pair of you nearly started to wrestle each other!" he dropped the report and peered over his glasses at the two apparently contrite girls.

"I know that when you, Miss Gilmore, first came here that there was a conflict between you and Miss Paris. I had rather hoped that it had been resolved. I'm very disappointed to find that apparently your rivalry has flared up again. This behavior is unacceptable, particularly in the case of two of our finest students. The Student Body President and a fine scholar who bodes well to be this year's Valedictorian."

He thought for a moment. "It's not a boy again is it? I remember there was a problem once before like that."

"Absolutely NOT sir." Rory replied while Paris got a very funny look on her face.

He stood up and fixed the girls with his most serious look. "I am going to leave the two of you together and let you work this out. No distractions, no interruptions. You are excused from class for the rest of this period. I want the two of you to talk like the civilized young ladies that I, this institution and your parents expect you to be. Are there any questions?"

"No sir," replied the duo in unison.

"Good." Headmaster Charleston gathered the papers on his desk. "I'll lock the door. Please do not disappoint me in this matter."

"No sir, we won't," Paris assured him as Rory added agreement.

The girls sat silently as the man majestically stalked from the room. He closed the door behind him and there was a loud "Click" as the old fashioned lock turned.

For nearly a minute neither girl moved from her chair nor uttered a word. Rory started trembling, slightly at first, then more so. At the same time Paris began to quiver. Both of them looked straight ahead as if they were afraid to look at each other. Twice the focal point Rory's blue eyes moved towards Paris and twice they snapped back to the now vacant desk.

Paris was shaking now. Her hands gripped the arms of the chair until her knuckles became white. Rory bite her lower lip. The tension in the room reached an incredible level. Something had to give.

Finally it did as both girls gave up the struggle. Choking sounds came first, then smothered moans. Then neither could stand it anymore. They looked at each other and burst into laughter.

Not just run-of-the-mill chuckles but full blown, belly aching, tear producing, nearly out of control laughter. Paris buried her face in her hands, trying to stifle the sounds of her merriment. Rory snatched up a small pillow and nearly swallowed it. Eventually they both wound down and regained some of their normal composure, although each time they looked at each other deep chuckles erupted again.

"It's not a boy again is it?" quoted Paris.

"It wasn't the first time and it certainly isn't now," answered Rory.

"No indeed," smiled Paris.

Rory got up from her chair and perched herself on the massive oak table. She waggled her finger at Paris and looked down her nose. "Hooligans!" she declaimed in a deep voice. "Poking! Wrestling!"

"That one was YOUR fault," interjected the blonde girl. "You had your arms around me and were trying to back me into that corner."

"So I wanted you all to myself." defended Rory. "Besides, YOU started it with that little touch on my leg that Mr. Medina thought was a poke."

"I'm just amazed at how completely wrong everyone managed to interpret what was going on," said Paris thoughtfully. "Not that I consider that a bad thing."

Rory agreed. "Regardless of whether or not I can keep my hands off you, and I guess this just goes to show we need to be a lot more careful, I'm not ready for anyone to know about the attraction between us." She hiked herself further onto the desk, sitting so her legs swung freely.

"So do you think we have resolved everything and can be released from Durance Vile?" Paris got up from her chair.

"Actually not even," replied Rory firmly.

"What do you mean?" a surprised Paris answered as she stood in front of Rory, turning to look at the clock mounted on the wall next to the door. "We could still catch the second half of Math class if we..." The blonde abruptly stopped talking as Rory's arms snaked around her waist and pulled her back against the taller girl.

"Two things," announced Rory. "First, we have to be more careful. I know we have had no chance to really be together since that one night but we still have to behave. And second," Rory's lips touched Paris' neck, softly nibbling and licking there. "Second, we have a locked room all to ourselves and the Head should know better than to shut up two hormonally charged teenagers together regardless of the fact we're both girls."

Paris leaned back against her friend. Her hands dropped to the spread thighs that imprisoned her." How would they know that we're 'hormonally charged teenagers'?"

"Because ALL teenagers are." Rory's legs wrapped around Paris and held her firmly. "And you and I are no different. They just don't realize WHO our hormones are charged about." With that Rory trailed kisses up under the thick blonde hair until her lips pressed against the other girl's ear. And my hormones are charged for you."

Paris shivered. Her hands slid under the hem of the brunette's plaid skirt, exploring her friend's legs. She rubbed them with her fingertips; with her palms. Under the nylon of her blue pantyhose Rory's skin felt smooth and slick to her touch.

A thump caught her attention. Rory had levered one shoe off and her stocking covered toes were pressing at the heel of the other. As it fell the taller girl began to work on the buttons of Paris' white blouse that were showing through the gap of the open blazer Paris had undone for comfort when they first sat down.

After enough buttons were undone to permit it, Rory's fingers slid inside the blouse and ran over the fine lace of the now exposed bra. "Oh MY," giggled Rory softly, blowing again into the ear before her lips. "Front clasp? Just what plans did you have today?" There was a quick turn of a wrist and cool air washed over the now freed breasts, causing Paris' nipples to stand up even more so than they already were.

At the same time, the lovely blonde girl's fingers had made a discovery of their own as they explored Rory's legs. The cool feel of nylon gave way to warm bare skin. "Hey there!" the surprised girl exclaimed. "You wore thigh highs instead of pantyhose. It seems that I'm not the only one who dressed with wicked ideas today."

"I was hoping" admitted Rory, who hooked one leg around Paris and dropped the other so the side of her nylon foot could caress the blonde's leg above her sock. Paris shivered and turned her head as far as she could, searching for Rory's elusive lips. She knew just exactly where her friend's fingers where as they toyed and teased her nipples.

Rory giggled as she avoided Paris' attempt to kiss her. She licked the back of the blonde's neck and her leg tightened. "I've got you now and there's nothing you can do about it," the brunette teased.

Paris leaned back and moaned. She rubbed her bottom between Rory's legs. her fingers squeezed between them and she grazed the front of her friend and lover's panties. When Rory jumped and muffled a cry into her neck Paris spun around, the other girl's grip on her loosened by her distraction. She pushed Rory back onto the desk top and climbed on top of both desk and girl.

"HEY!" Rory protested but it was too late. The pair rolled on the desk together, wrestling for real now. Kicking legs and flailing arms scattered the desk set and the varnished nameplate and the papers left there. Frantic hands tore at clothing. Rory managed twice to capture a breast that wobbled above her as Paris fought her way out of blazer and blouse and then undressed the other girl. Skirts bunched up around waists. Paris rose abruptly in triumph with Rory's bra in her hands to wave like a captured flag. Then Rory's arms encircled her again and pulled her down.

The two girls kissed wildly. Hands slid down sides and finished hiking uniform skirts out of the way. Thighs slid between each other. Grasping fingers tugged soaking wet panties out of the way and reached for each other most intimate places. First Paris and then Rory was on top as they rolled back and forth. Hips slammed against fingers and smooth thighs until both girls finally collapsed in each other's arms, completely spent.

The pair laid happily together for a while before noises in the outer office brought them back to where they were. The scrambled up and frantically began to dress. That dressing was hampered by a nearly futile search for Rory's bra, which was finally discovered hanging half in and half out of an open filing cabinet drawer. The once they had managed to get themselves back together Paris whipped out a compact and checked her hair and make-up.

"Oh God," she moaned. "We look like the living dead."

"But very HAPPY living dead," corrected Rory. "Still, we better do something."

Dumped pocketbooks and pockets produced moist towelettes and hairbrushes and enough lip gloss to repair the worst of the ravages the pair had happily inflicted on each other. Not much could be done about the scent that Rory described as "eau de femme ala rut" but they hoped that the Headmaster would misinterpret that as well as everything else that he had managed. Paris did find a tiny bottle of perfume and sprayed a bit in the air as well as on each other.

Then there was the problem of attempting to put everything back on the Headmaster's desk. Some of the items were easy to place, some weren't. Paris groaned as she hefted several file folders that she had kicked off. SHe shrugged and stacked them neatly about where she remembered them being although the order was most likely not correct.

They had just settle back into the chairs that they had turned to face one another in order to give the appearance of a long and serious discussion when the lock turned and the door swung open. Expecting to see the Headmaster the pair was startled when the face of Ms. Peters, their faculty advisor on "The Franklin" popped in, followed immediately by the rest of the attractive woman.

"Alright you two," she looked them over and sighed. "What is going on? I get this report that the two of you have started up World War Three. In fact from all I've heard I'm surprised there isn't blood all over the floor in here.

"Ms. Peters the whole thing is blown out of proportion," said Rory. "It was just a little silliness that was completely misunderstood."

"Absolutely," nodded Paris. "Things have never been better between Rory and I then they are right now."

Ms. Peters folded her arms and looked carefully at each of he pair in turn. Both Rory and Paris attempted to meet her gaze with as much innocence and sincerity as they could manage. Finally the older woman nodded.

"Okay, I think that last statement is probably exactly right. So you both go back to class and I'll tell the Headmaster everything has been worked out."

The duo thanked their advisor and headed out of the room, grateful to have dodged another bullet. Just as they were passing through the doorway Ms. Peters spoke once more.

"Rory?" When both girls turned she continued. "Rory, the buttons on your blouse aren't fastened properly. You might want to correct that before you get to class."

The two girls stared. The older woman ignored them, having apparently said all she was going to say. She turned away from them and studied the top of the desk. Rory looked at Paris, who looked back. The pair fled the office, never hearing the low soft laugh from the sole remaining occupant.

"Girls," she whispered with a smile of knowledge.

(The End)


End file.
